


Little Ram

by Magizinu



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Childcare, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Married Couple, Mentions of PTSD, New Parents, Post-Trespasser, Yelran is a Member of the Bull’s Chargers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25794358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magizinu/pseuds/Magizinu
Summary: While on a job near Seheron, the Bull’s Chargers find a Saarebas child abandoned in the forest. With no choice but to care for her until they find a suitable Chantry, the Chargers travel South to the Emerald Graves  Along the way, Bull and Yelran find themselves growing more attached to this baby than they care to admit.At the end of their journey, they must make a hard decision: surrender the baby into the care of the Chantry, or try and raise her themselves?
Relationships: Cremisius “Krem” Aclassi/Scout Lace Harding, Iron Bull & Original Male Character(s), Iron Bull/Male Lavellan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Little Ram

It was a quiet day for the Chargers, they were between jobs at the moment, traveling South all the way to the Emprise Du Lion from near Seheron. They had been on the road for a good part of the day, then decided to stop in a clearing of woods before attempting to cross the swift river ahead. 

Frankly, Yelran was glad that they were leaving the area. Bull had some bad memories from this place, and he got quiet at night, plagued by his past. Yelran knew there was nothing he could do besides be by his side when he got upset, and be open to listen if he needs. But he’d never liked talking about that part of his life, so he doesn’t pry. 

It’s about an hour before sundown, and the Chargers have each settled into their own routines. Lace is writing on a map of the area she got from a vendor a few days before, Krem is reorganizing his traveling pack, Gat is sitting quietly and watching the fire. Yelran isn’t sure where Rocky is, maybe in the forest collecting firewood. He liked to do that himself, in case he came across any parts he could use in his gadgets. Yelran was writing a letter to Divine Victoria, letting her know where they were headed and why. And maybe including a bit of gossip he’d heard from the area. 

Bull was sitting a ways away, sharpening his axe and a couple of daggers. For the amount of time he spends sharpening them with that whetstone, one would think they don’t need any more. But it was a tactic to keep his mind and hands busy when he didn’t want to do anything else. 

Yelran is sealing the letter when he picks up hurried footsteps before anyone comes into view. Dalish hears it as well, and they watch as Rocky comes jogging out of the forest, holding something in his arms. It’s not wood, it almost looks like… a blanket. Or some kind of fabric wrapped around something. 

“Hey, I’ve got an issue!” He calls, and everyone is immediately on their feet. Yelran reaches for his bow, but stops when Rocky gets closer and he can get a better look at what he’s holding. Is that…

“I found this baby inside a tree hollow.” He stops as he reaches them, panting and out of breath. Yelran peers over and, sure enough, he’s holding an actual baby. A million thoughts run through his mind at once. Who’s was it? What was she doing out in the cold? How do we find her parents. 

Lace moves the blanket so they can get a look at her. Her skin is pale grey, by not a healthy grey, more a sickly one. 

“She’s Saarebas.” Bull says quietly. He’s crept up next to Yelran, and is looking at the child like it’s spooked him. 

“How do you know?” He asks. 

He points to her cheek. Yelran hadn’t noticed before but he sees it now, a bright red, angry slash on her cheek. She barely moves when touched, and isn’t crying. From what little he knows about babies, he can tell it isn’t a good sign. Looking at her, shivering and so tiny, his heart wrenches for her and he feels the urge to cradle her in his arms. Rocky has no objection to passing her over, and as Yelran holds the tiny person to his chest he fights back tears. Why would anyone leave such a young child for their death?

“She’s probably hypothermic, poor soul.” Lace says, gently caressing the blankets. 

“And malnourished too, I’d guess.” 

Yelran moves to sit by the fire, refusing to take his eyes off her. She’s still not moving, but he can feel the faint rise and fall of her chest, just the smallest flutter of life. _Don’t die, little one. Please._

“Why would they do this?” Dalish asks with a horrified tone. It wasn’t often that she was moved.

“When a Qunari manifests their magic very young, the Tamassrans decide it will be more merciful to let them die instead of living a life fighting from demons. They cut them so that if an animal or the cold doesn’t take them, infection will.” Bull says in a quiet voice. Yelran can hear a slight tremor in it. The rest of the Chargers go quiet, watching the baby. 

“Do we have anything we can give her to eat?” Yelran asks after a while. 

“She’s too young to eat real food. And I doubt she would eat anything in this state.” Lace says. She’d grown up helping take care of younger siblings, so Yelran trusts her advice. 

“We could try to give her some water in a bit. If she doesn’t…” Krem trails off, not wanting to finish the thought. Yelran looks down at her and shifts her more comfortable in his arms. He cups her tiny face, and she still feels cold, but not quite as bad. So he uses some minor heat magic to warm his hand. 

“What should we do, Chief?” Krem asks. They all turn to Bull, who is sitting stock still, watching the Qunari child with an unreadable expression. 

“We won’t leave her here.” He says eventually. Then he gets up and ducks into their tent without another word. Yelran stares after him with concern. Why did he sound so unsure?

Then he turns back to the baby, and feels his heart melt. She’s so small, so helpless… and so cold. “I’ll bring her inside to warm up and patch that gash.” 

“Give her some water too. Hey, if you want someone else to look after her, I’m here.” Lace puts a hand on Yelran’s arm, then turns back to her map. The rest of the Chargers take that as a cue to return to their normal activities. 

Yelran ducks into the tent, closing it behind him. Bull is sitting on the ground, holding a letter but not reading it. He’s looking away from Yelran. 

“Bull.” He says calmly. He needs Bull to look at him. 

“Not now, Kadan.” 

“Look at me.” The seconds tick by, and Bull stays still, until eventually he turns around. He looks pained. 

“What?”

Yelran kneels in front of him, shifting the baby in his arms and looking up to meet his gaze. 

“I know you have things from your past that you don’t want to talk about. And I’d never pry unless I have to. But you’ve gotta tell me what’s bothering you.” He pauses, looking down at the child in his arms. “You took one look at her and acted like you’d seen a ghost.”

Bull heaves a sigh, putting the letter to the side. He looks away from Yelran before he begins to talk. 

“When I was a kid, maybe about eight years old, one of the infants in my section manifested his magic. My Tamassran decided with the others to bring him into the forest and leave him there, instead of condemn him to a life of a saarebas.” 

Yelran waits patiently for him to continue. This was hard for him to talk about, he could see the strain in him. 

“She took me and some others from my age group along with her into the forest. We walked until we found a hollow in the roots of a tree. I watched as she cut the child, wrapped him up, and left him there. I watched and did nothing. I didn’t even think about it. It was normal.” 

He shudders, balling his fists. If Yelran didn’t know him he would think he might be about to break something. But he did know him. 

“Hold your arms out.” 

Slowly, he does as Yelran says. His hands are shaking. 

Yelran places the baby in his arms. Bull’s arms swallow her, but he holds her with the utmost gentleness. He blinks and a tear drops down onto the blankets. 

“There is no denying that it’s wrong to leave a baby to die, simply for possessing magic. But those born under the qun have no choice on the circumstances of their birth. And that includes you.” He places a hand over Bull’s, stilling the tremors. 

“There was nothing you could do as a child to stop what was happening, just like there was nothing I could do to stop the death of my father. We both would have been killed otherwise, and we would have never grown up to fight against the corruption we saw as kids.” 

Bull is suddenly wracked with sobs, and Yelran gathers him in his arms and holds him close. Bull buries his head in Yelran’a shoulder and cries silently, convulsing with grief. 

Bull so rarely cries, and Yelran had only ever seen him weep like this once. Seeing him so upset tears his heart in half and hot tears well into his own eyes as he soothes the Qunari, wishing he could take all that anguish away for him. 

Slowly he stills, and Yelran pets the back of his head. Then the blankets stir, and they look down in surprise. 

The baby is moving, wiggling around. As they watch, her face scrunches up, then her eyes open just barely. 

“She’s so tiny.” Bull whispers. 

“She’s strong. I honestly didn’t know if she’d wake up.” She blinks at them, and relief floods his body. But still, she seems so weak, too exhausted to do anything more. 

“At some Chantry’s and shops, they sell a powder that makes milk when mixed with water.” 

“I’ll go get some. Jaër is faster than your warhorse.” He strokes the baby’s cheek, reluctant to leave. But she needed food, and he trusted Bull. Just don’t get worse while I’m gone. 

Bull looks up at him with uncertainty. He doesn’t have any experience with children, Yelran realizes. Qunari are kept sorted in their age groups and never interact with the younger ones. Yelran, on the other hand, grew up helping with the infants in his clan. 

“It’ll be ok. I trust you.” He kisses his forehead, then grabs his pack and ducks out of the tent. 

* * *

He finds what Bull had described in a small shop a few miles away. The older woman who sold it to him gives him a knowing smile. 

“How old is your little one?” She asks as he hands her a few coins. 

How old? Yelran had no idea. She was young, but was smaller than she should be. Just larger than a newborn. Though, was it different for Qunari?

“Two months?” He says awkwardly. 

“Oh, very young. Excuse my nosiness, but has your wife stopped producing? I have remedies for that.” 

Yelran fidgets. “I have a husband actually, but if you have a potion that will make him produce milk, I won’t object.” It’s a funny image, but he isn’t in the mood for humor. The woman seems to find it funny, though, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders hearing her laugh. 

“Nothing of that sort I’m afraid, but I do have bottles if you need one.” 

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that. I’m afraid we’ve been thrown into deep water, we’re still figuring things out.” One hell of an understatement. 

“You’re no worse off than any new parents, I assure you. If you need advise, I’d be happy to help. I’ve had three of my own, you see.” She pats his hand kindly. 

“I- thank you.” Her comment has caught him off guard. Parents? They weren’t parents. But their original plan of finding her parents was out the window, considering where she came from. She didn’t have any parents. The thought made him quite sad. 

“I didn’t catch your name. Mine’s Ansley.”

“Oh- Yelran. Yelran Lavellan.” He shakes her hand and leaves before she can recognize his name and realize he’s the former inquisitor.

He returns to camp just as the sun slips below the horizon. He’d asked Krem to put a pot of water over the fire, and finds the pot hanging above the flames. 

“Thanks, Krem.” 

“Don’t mention it. What’s with the chief? He hasn’t left the tent.” 

“He’s…” He trails off, not knowing how to tell Krem he’s struggling with PTSD and grief without sacrificing his privacy. “He’ll be ok. This just isn’t his area of expertise.”

“I don’t think it’s any of ours. What does he plan on doing with the baby, do you know?”

“I’m not sure yet. For now, we just want to get her healthy again.” 

Krem nods, then helps him mix the water and powder until it looks ok. Before he heads back, Stitches puts in a few drops of poultice. “It’ll help perk her up.” 

When he returns to the tent, he finds Bull sitting on his bed roll, watching the baby with all his attention. But he looks up when Yelran comes in. “Her breathing is shallow.” He says quietly.

  
Yelran sits by his side, checking that the milk isn’t too hot and guiding it into her mouth. Bull puts his hand over Yelran’s. Both of them are shaking slightly. 

She doesn’t respond, she just moves her head away, and Yelran feels tears well in his eyes, though he doesn’t know why. 

“Please, Da’len, you need to eat.” He pleads. The baby scrunches her face up, and they watch on pins and needles. Then, she seems to remember how hungry she must be, and shoves the bottle in her mouth and drinks greedily. Yelran sighs in relief, slumping against Bull. 

The two of them watch, trance-like, as she drinks, both relieved and terrified that she’ll choke. Eventually she finishes, and Yelran takes her in his arms again. She’s warmer now, and wiggles in his grasp. Still, she isn’t acting like a healthy baby should. 

“She’s too quiet. I almost wish she would cry.” 

He leans against Bull, suddenly tired. Maybe from the constant worrying. Why was he worrying so much? He’d known this kid for less than a day. But Bull looked at her the same way, with concern and softness. Worrying about her felt… right. 

“What’s our plan with her?”

“There’s some big Chantry houses down South in the Emerald Graves that take in orphans. The sisters raise them, and I know some of them that take in Qunari.” 

Yelran strokes her cheek, which is unbelievable soft. “So take her South. She deserves a good place to grow up in after such a rough start.” He leans down to press the lightest kiss to her forehead. Her face scrunches up again, but not in disgust this time. It almost looks like a smile. 

Bull watches without comment. Yelran had a tendency to get attached to things, and he already seems to care a great deal about this child. But he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel vulnerable when he looked at her, or didn’t feel the urge to keep her from harm. But that was a normal response, right?

“I’ll go ask Lace to help me clean her up. Then we can talk more about how we’re gonna do this.” 

“Alright. Anything I can do?” 

He thinks, looking over the baby. “In my bag is a grey cowl, cut it up into rectangles. That’s what my clan did for the young ones until they can take care of themselves.” 

“No problem, boss.” He kisses his forehead. Yelran grins at the name. 

* * *

Lace and Yelran spend an hour thoroughly cleaning her, dressing the gash again and washing the blanket. She puts up little fuss, any movements to get away are lethargic and weak. The other Chargers hang around, checking on her occasionally and offering tips and ideas. 

Bull had done what he asked, and a pile of the cut fabric sits in the corner of the tent. He shows Bull how to put one on, then wraps her in a new blanket. It gets very cold at night, and she was so thin already. 

Bull reaches for her and Yelran passes her to him. As he gets ready to sleep he can hear him murmuring things in Qunlat as he sways. It’s a sight that turns his insides to jelly. 

Bull brings her under the furs with him, cradling her. Yelran blows out the candles, and the tent falls under darkness. But he can see, unlike Bull, and easily shuffles to his side. He’s tired, but he can’t tear his eyes from the baby. She’s asleep, breathing stronger and drooling. Her downy white hair sticks to her forehead, and he reaches a hand out to brush it to the side. 

“She looks happy.” Bull whispers. Yelran hums agreement. 

“She’s so cute.” 

Bull chuckles. “That’s what you’re supposed to think. So you take care of her. We learned that from our Tamassrans.” 

“Hey, I’ve seen babies that aren’t cute. She’s adorable. By the way, should we give her a name?”

“I’m sure the Chantry sisters will give her one.” 

Yelran frowns. “But it’ll be a while until we reach one. I don’t want to just call her ‘the baby’.” 

“Hmm. Let’s think about it in the morning.” Bull rumbles. He sounds even sleepier than Yelran is. 

“‘Kay. I’ll tie her to my back tomorrow, like how my mom did.” 

“We take turns.” He kisses Yelran’s hair clumsily, nuzzling his scalp. 

“Night, Ma Vhenan.”

“Mmnnnmm.” He murmurs.

Yelran stays awake for a while, listening to Bull and the baby breathe. It’s odd to hear one extra breath, it’s only ever been him and Bull. 

When he feels his eyes begin to droop, he leans over to press a kiss into the baby’s hair. She has a peculiar smell, like warm sunshine and flowers. It’s sweet and warm. 

They sleep uninterrupted for a few hours, until the baby stirs, and begins to cry for the first time. Yelran wakes up with a start, bolting up in distress. Bull wakes up slower, sitting up on his elbows. 

The baby’s cries grow louder and Yelran watches, frozen and unsure. Is she in pain? Is she scared? 

“She’s probably hungry.” Bull says, voice thick with sleep. He sits up and bounces her. She cries more. 

“I’ll go get the bottle.” 

And so began their sleepless nights. 

* * *

They were able to get a couple more hours of sleep before morning, but woke up groggy. Bull feeds her again, and Yelran straps her to his back like how his clan did when traveling. Her head rests on his shoulder. He shows Bull how to fasten the blanket so that she doesn’t slip. 

“We’ll switch in a couple hours.” He says through a yawn. 

They pack up the tent, and the Chargers are doing the same. A couple of them, namely Krem and Lace who set their tent up next to theirs, look tired as well. The crying must have kept them up too. 

They pack quickly and set out while the morning dew is still fresh on the grass. Fog hangs over the ground, occasionally lit up by rays of weak sunshine that peek through the foliage. Besides the morning birds and the sound of footsteps, everything is quiet. 

It gives Yelran space to think. He and Bull had had long conversations about the prospect of a family. They had both agreed they were open to the idea, maybe when they were older and not on the road as much. Obviously neither could bare child, but there were plenty of kids that need homes in city Chantry’s. Yelran was more open to the idea than Bull, but he’d seen the man interact with kids before. He was gentle and funny, and he knew he would be a good parent if they ever did adopt. But they hadn’t ever made concrete plans, being so busy with the jobs they took on, so he had begun to think it wouldn’t happen. They did have a small house in the Hinterlands, but rarely were they there. At the moment, Bull was enough for him. 

Perhaps Bull was more skeptical because he hadn’t grown up with parents. He didn’t know what a normal childhood looked like, growing up under the qun. It was hard for him to visualize, let alone do. And Yelran had a suspicion that Bull thought he wouldn’t be a good parent because of it. 

Yelran had grown up with parents, and even though his father had died at a young age, still felt more comfortable with the idea of being a parent. But they both knew it was a big decision, and something they shouldn’t rush into. Fighting demons and stopping cult fanatics had seemed like enough responsibility. 

But now Yelran wasn’t sure


End file.
